


Buried Treasure

by flashforeward



Category: Eerie Indiana
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5424611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashforeward/pseuds/flashforeward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>on a treasure hunt, Chisel and Radford find something unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buried Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> For the Eerie Indiana Advent challenge. Prompt was "not all that glitters"

"I told you it wasn't gold," Bartholomew said, leaning back against the tree. 

"Don't get smug," Winston said. "I'm the one who told you there was treasure buried here."

Bartholomew leaned forward and looked down at the hole he and Winston had spent the majority of the afternoon digging. "Doesn't look like treasure to me," Bartholomew said, eying the mostly decayed cardboard box they had unearthed. They were in Winston's backyard - which was not the best idea because if either of his parents caught even a hint of what they were doing they were in deep trouble. Winston more-so than Bartholomew, since they could ground Winston. And would. For ages. And make him fill in the hole and replant the grass and tend the seed and all the gardens that surrounded the house for months to come in penance for his sin.

Bartholomew's parents would be called, but they would just give him a scolding and send him straight to bed. If they gave the situation any notice, that is. More likely they would make the requisite promises to Mr. and Mrs. Chisel, apologize blandly for their son's hand in the mischief, and then forget all about Bartholomew by the time they had hung up the phone. It was a point of connection for the boys, this difference in their parents - the overbearing and the barely present.

One wanted to get away, the other wanted someone to lean on and thus they found each other.

Still. Bartholomew had promised to help not only dig up the treasure but also refill the hole and make it look like yet another patch of perfectly manicured lawn. But he could not hide his disappointment at what the treasure turned out to be. So far, it promised little. Winston was not deterred, however. He set the box on the ground beside Bartholomew and, with careful, shaking hands plucked off the lid. Inside were faded photographs and a single notebook.

Bartholomew reached for the pictures, carefully leafing through them. They were of men. Men who looked familiar. Almost like...

Bartholomew dropped the pictures even as a strangled sound slipped from Winston, who had opened to a random page in the notebook. "They're us, Winston," Bartholomew said in a quiet voice, trying to hide the shake he could feel. Trying to hide his fear.

"It says I kill you," Winston said, looking up and meeting Bartholomew's gaze. "It says I kill you. I don't pull the trigger but I'm the cause it says." His voice chokes and he swallows, dropping the notebook back into the box. Shoving the pictures on top. The top. He shoves the box back into the hole, not caring that the box's top falls off and its contents spill out into the dirt - or perhaps hoping if they destroy the evidence then nothing they have seen will come to pass.

Together, in silence, they rebury the box and its contents. Together they touch up the patch of earth, carefully making it look like it has been undisturbed. Or as much as it can look undisturbed. Together, in silence, they retreated to the second floor, to Winston's suit of rooms, to change and wash up. Together and in silence they lay on Winston's bed, holding on tightly to the only treasure that mattered anyway, trying to banish the haunting memories of a future they should not have glimpsed and hoped would not come to pass.


End file.
